


Rewritten Rendezvous

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bartender AU, Canon Divergence, Cas the bartender, M/M, Sam Ships It, childish brother friendship, joking bets, really they're just big kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:46:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and his brother, Sam, are coming back from a hunt. Some other hunters and them have a series of apartments scattered around the country in case they ever need to crash. Cas lives down the hall, in hiding. Not because he broke heaven, no not at all. He just temporarily caused chaos, and is keeping it low key.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rewritten Rendezvous

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't what I wanted to happen. It wasn't meant to turn into this at all.

Dean grunted as he dragged a suitcase, which not only contained clothes but a variety of weapons, up the front steps of the apartment complex. Sam, not far behind, had easily slung a duffle over his shoulder and was about to pass his older brother by. "Need help, Dean?" he laughed, resting an elbow on his older brothers shoulder, fully well enjoying pointing out how he was taller, even if Dean could still wrestle the shit out of him. 

"Not the time, Sammy," the elder Winchester had warned, his hand fumbling through his leather jackets pockets to find the key. Sam only rolled his eyes and pulled out his own key after watching Dean struggle. "Thanks," the shorter one grumbled. 

When they finally got in through the front door, up the stairs and into their apartment, they had thrown everything onto the floor, then started sorting the socks from the daggers before retreating to the couch and throwing a movie on. They had just finished hunting a vampires nest in Ohio, a few states over from where they were now, which was Pontiac, Illinois, just south of Chicago. 

A few hours later, around 10pm, Dean decided he was hungry. Hungry as in going-to-break-a-table-in-half hungry. So he did what any Winchester would do at a time like this– wake Sammy the fuck up from his nap and shove his 6 foot 4 ass into the car for dinner. 

"Yo Sam," Dean said, tossing his brother the keys to the Impala, "heat her up. I forgot my jacket and wallet." Dean turned on his heel, and went back inside the apartment as Sam walked towards the stairs. Grabbing the jacket he left on the kitchenette table, Dean winked at himself in the mirror jokingly as he passed by, decidedly in a good mood. 

The drive to their usual dive bar was smooth, until Sam puppy-eyed his was into convincing Dean into going to some pub down the street instead. Grumpily agreeing, Dean muttered something about 'you owe me'. 

After ordering a large pizza, topped with the greasiest crap he could order (take that Sammy!), Dean dug into the table peanuts. A small smile grew on the two boys' faces as they glanced up at one another, hands full of peanut shells. Neither knew who fired the first shot, just that Sam's hair was covered and Dean's glass was half beer, half crumpled shells. 

It was a way of being like a normal family, fighting like this, and making jabs at each other. Well, if you could call grown men chucking peanut remnants normal. 

"You little shit, that beer was still good!" Dean laughed, grabbing the glass and ruffling Sam's hair like he was eight. Standing up, he excused himself to buy another drink, this time a bottle so there was smaller target space. 

Sauntering right up to the bar, Dean rested his right arm on the table, looking back at Sammy who was trying to tell him what he wanted. Still keeping his eyes locked on Sam, Dean started to order, "Can I get a–" he trailed off to give Sam a look of annoyance. 

"Some what, sir?" Holy shit that voice was deeper than he expected. Startled, Dean turned to face the bartender, who was not the blonde babe from before, but a dark haired man. 

Dean licked his bottom lip, subconsciously, 'some of your clothes off would be nice.' He laughed to himself at the thought of straight up hitting on the guy. He's been strictly into only taking girls home whenever he wasn't on a hunt alone, still worried about what Sam (or previously, his dad) would think. A smirk played across his lips, deciding a little harmless flirting wouldn't do any harm, Dean settled both of his elbows on the table and leaned towards the bartender. "What do you think sounds good–" Dean started, then spared a quick glance down at the name tag, "Castiel."

"Well, as an employee on their shift I suggest one of our many tapped beers." Castiel chuckled, deep voice and laugh like music to Dean's ears. 

'Goddamn,' was all the Winchester could think. "And what would you suggest if that wasn't the case, Castiel?"

"I suggest, that you hurry up. Your date seems to be getting antsy," Castiel countered, finally taking the dirty glass away from Dean. 

"Date?" the hunter spluttered, turning towards Sam, "No man, that's my baby brother." Clearing his throat, he continued on, suddenly self-conscious that Sammy could see right through him, "just give me two bottles of whatever you have on hand." 

"Coming right up," was the only reply, but Dean could have swore there was a wink mixed in with his hands brushing Castiel's as they switched items– Dean's money for the drinks. "Then I suggest you drink fast, sir. The good staff gets off soon."

Walking back with a bottle in each hand, Dean grinned. "Dude, this pub is awesome."

"You having a good time with our neighbor?" Sam laughed. He kept glancing at Castiel, constantly, only to erupt with little bursts of laughter each time. 

"What's so funny?" the elder Winchester glared, half-heartedly. He was just starting to enjoy this place a bit more. 

"Nothing, it's just. He doesn't seem like kind who would easily pick up on your mindless flirting, and return it. Which you were, you don't have to act like you weren't."

Dean continued his stare, this time panic residing in it, which he easily covered up in a thick layer of cockiness, " you doubting my skills on hooking up? Now, now, Sammy, that's not very nice."

"Fine, I'll make you a deal, Dean. You let him make all of the first moves. If by the time we leave, nothing happens, I win. Rules may be changeable along the way."

He was about to agree but he bit his lip, "what about hunting?"

"We can do some hunts in state, God knows Chicago is full of weird shit."

"Alright, you got yourself a deal! Nobody can resist my natural charm."

\---

It wasn't until a few days later Dean saw Castiel again. Sam and Dean were waiting for the elevator when out walked Castiel from down the hall. "Hello, Sam." He smiled, obviously not paying attention to Dean. 

"Hey, Castiel. This is my brother, Dean. Dean, this is Castiel Novak. His brother Gabe runs the bakery down the street. The one with the apple pie you drool over."

"Hey, Cas." Was all Dean said, he couldn't flirt with Sammy right here. Especially after the deal they made. 

"It's nice to meet you, Dean." Castiel smiled innocently, tugging his trench coat around him tighter. If the coat had fit him better it would have been a lot less nerdy looking. 

Sam grinned devilishly as the elevator door opened, "I forgot my water back in the room, be right back." With that being said, the taller man backed out of the hall and ran towards their room. 

Dean grumbled as him and Cas piled into the elevator. Dean pressed the lobby button, but Cas hit three more buttons and grinned. "Whoops."

"Excuse me, that isn't the right floor," Dean chuckled, using his arm to press the remaining untouched buttons. 

"You're right, it's this one," Cas jokingly pointed out, hitting the emergency stop button. "Oops, wrong one again." It was only a matter of seconds before Cas had grabbed Dean and pulled him closer; his smug grin right in Dean's face. "I missed you after work, did you miss me?" 

"I only just met you, remember?" 

"Don't get sassy with me, I'm not due at work for about– for another 20 minutes." he grinned, a wicked glimmer emerging in Cas' blue eyes. "Now, enough talking, Dean Winchester." Just like that Dean was up against the wall, face full of Castiel Novak.

Damn, if only Sammy could see him now. He wouldn't be the only surprised one, Dean sure as hell was taken aback. He didn't expect all this to go so easily. Didn't expect Cas to actually make the first move. That's when their arms found their way around each other and Dean took control, turning them around and pushing Cas against the door. 

It took a few minutes for them to finally stop moving each other around and fixate themselves in the corner, Dean not even caring about being the one pressed with his back to the wall. Then to ruin the moment, Dean's phone rang, which he angrily picked up as only Sam knew the number and he'd be suspicious if he didn't pick up. 

"What is it, Sammy?" His voice sounded too coarse to be normal, basically screaming that he'd just been breathless. Dean put him on speaker phone so Cas could hear too. 

"It's been 10 minutes, and you aren't near the car yet. Hurry the hell up, I'm waiting." Sam's voice was annoyed, and impatient. 

Castiel just gave a slight smirk, and coughed, "Sorry, Sam. Your brother thought it would be funny to press multiple buttons in the elevator and got us stuck."

A small grunt came from Dean, then he moved the phone away from their mouths, "you little shit, blaming it on me."

"Whatever, just hurry it up." Sam groaned, not even suspecting a thing, thanks to a certain bartenders good recovery skills. 

"Can do, Sammy boy," and with that Dean hung the phone up. It was hard go pry himself off of Cas. God, he was a mess from just mindless kissing. "What am I gonna tell, Sam? Huh, Cas?" 

"You can tell him you'll be home late." Cas hit the emergency stop button again and off they were back to finish the remaining floors they had to stop at. 

"You sneaky little bastard," was all the hunter said, "if I knew you were this easy I would have taken a break from hunting awhile ago."

Cas cleared his throat, "Hunting?"

"Yeah," Dean coughed awkwardly, "Sammy and I, uh, we hunt with our uncle, Bobby, a lot." Cas only nodded slightly, like he was disappointed a bit. 

Cas helped Dean fix himself, then wiped his hands on his trench coat pockets. "Sorry about keeping you later than expected," he grinned cheekily, fixing Dean's hair. "Is mine okay?"

"Stunning," Dean snorted, "your sex hair isn't any different than your normal hair."

"Wouldn't me having sex hair require, oh I don't know, sex?" Cas pointed out. 

Nudging him over with his shoulder, Dean rolled his eyes at Cas dramatically. "Is this typical? Eye fucking your customers until you get what you want?"

"Don't be so naïve, Dean. I only do that to strange men who eye fuck me back, obviously." Cas ducked his head a bit, taking a more shy approach, "To be honest, I took a chance. There's just something about you, Winchester. It drives me –" the elevator opened at the lobby. 

"There you two are! Geez, I thought you died or something." Sam chided, having spotted them from across the room. 

"See you tonight?" Deans voice was hushed as he asked the question, but he smiled straight at Sam. 

Cas grinned big and waved at Sam, his reply nothing more than a whisper, "tonight." Cas was halfway through the door before he called back towards Dean, "Thanks!" All Dean could do was smile sheepishly as Sam gave him a questioning look. 

\---

"You're a demon hunter." Cas stated, dazedly. 

"How did you–" Dean glanced down at himself. "Oh. But, hey, wait, a minute. How do you even know about that?" Dean took a deep breath, backtracking a bit. 

It was around ten when Dean had showed up. He brought over a case of beer and a grin, who the hell knew where the night would take them. Cas had been more than welcome about the beer and practically shoved his tongue down Dean's throat to show his appreciation. 

Things had taken a rhythmic pace up until half the pack was gone. At this point, Castiel and Dean were on the floor, wrestling for the remote control. Cas had a thing for movies with Sandra Bullock, but Dean really wasn't in the mood for Miss Congeniality. 

"Dean! Please?" Cas whined, looking sadly at Dean while he still tried to grab the remote. "You just want to watch some stupid soap opera!"

Dean put his free hand to his heart, in mock pain, "Doctor Sexy MD isn't stupid!" After that it started going downhill. 

Cas had stopped trying to steal the remote controller long enough to put a plan into action. Kissing Dean was the easy part, all he had to do was make him lose grip on the prize. Cas lifted his head up, and planted his lips on Deans forcefully, and pushed Dean over so he was on his side. Breaking apart, Cas whined again, "Dean!"

When the Winchester looked at him, Cas snatched the clicker away and stood up. "Victory is mine!"

"Hey, not fair. I demand a rematch!" Then they were off again, wrestling all over the living room. It wasn't long until things got better. It started off with Cas' arms around Dean's neck, and Dean's hands in Cas' hair. 

Neither exactly knew who started it, just that in a matter of seconds their lips were smashed together. They were both used to taking what they wanted pretty quickly, so when the war for dominance was fought, it was a struggle to win. Cas had taken Dean by surprise; he didn't look like the kind to be so 'bossy' according to Dean.

Castiel had taken a lead by practically shoving his tongue down Dean's throat, which Dean will admit, had taken him by a surprise. Not to be outdone, the Winchester shoved his hands up the back of Cas' shirt (which caused him to squirm and complain how hands were "fucking cold"). Dean had taken that as a cue to throw the other's shirt off, a black shirt with 'Roadhouse' written over the right sleeve, and across the rug. 

"Am I still cold?" Dean chuckled, pressing his cold palms and fingers into every inch of Cas' bare chest he could get. 

"No, you're grubby fingers are like a sauna. Yes! You're damned hands are cold as hell!" The other had groaned, reaching blindly for his shirt behind him. Dean had grabbed it before him, and jumped to his feet. 

Taking advantage of his size, Dean held it high above his head. "You want it? How about you win it back in a game?"

Cas blinked a few times, and tilted his head to the side slightly, "A game where I win an article of clothing?" A laugh erupted from him a moment later, as if he finally understood, "What if you give me my shirt back, and we can play a game where we lose clothes? I do have a deck of cards in the cabinet by the television."

"Are you asking me to play strip poker with you?" Dean laughed, and handed him his work shirt back, "Cause if you are, I'll totally play."

They had played a few rounds, Dean having lost his jacket, and socks, while Castiel lost his sock; extremities were always the first to go. Dean won the next two hands, whistling and flirting as Cas lost his shirt and a bottle of beer (Dean had mockingly felt bad and offered to take Cas' drink instead of his pants). "It'll be on the floor soon enough," he had pointed out, winking. He was right. 

Castiel ended up in only his underwear and Dean had only lost his ability to function. Cas was practically naked, and that was too much. His focus on the cards had gone straight over the rainbow. Cas had figured as much and offered to let Dean pass on taking his shirt off, but only if Cas could remove the next time he lost. The Winchester had agreed wholeheartedly. No matter how much he tried not to lose, it was still a game, he had still lost. 

Castiel had stood up from the table and demanded for Dean to do the same. Pulling them closer by tugging Dean's flannel shirt, Cas had slowly started to undo the buttons. Slipping the buttons out of place at an excruciatingly slow pace, he had pressed his hands against Dean happily. Now that the buttons were free it was only a matter of slipping it off Dean's shoulders, but that would be no fun now would it? 

Running his right hands fingers along the bare skin of Dean's chest, his left arm found it's way under Dean's shirt and wrapped itself around him, pulling them even closer. Dean had started the kiss but Cas had deepened it. Heated kisses had taken all focus either of them had left. The shirt had been long flung off, and chests had pushed into each other in it's absence.

Cas' lips were still attached to Dean when his back hit his own bed. The taller man was leaning in between his legs, and pressing kisses to the blue-eyed man's neck. Cas had been palming Dean through his boxers and teasing him the whole time. It wasn't until Dean had lifted his head up slightly to whisper in his ear did Cas see the tattoo. The words whispered as he saw it is what fueled his panic attack. All Dean had said was, "You're in so much trouble, mister." Much to Dean's dismay, his foreplay was taken as a threat. 

Cas' eyes were glued to Dean's chest, but Dean went to kiss him and he pushed him away, freaked out. "You're a demon hunter." 

"How did you– oh. But, hey, wait, a minute. How do you even know about that?" 

Cas had given him a shaky laugh, "don't act like you're so innocent. Is that why you and your brother suddenly showed up like that a few weeks ago?"

"Cas, why does this matter so mu–"

"Don't call me that," was all Cas had said. He threw Dean his clothes and grabbed his own before locking himself in the bathroom. 

It was only 11:30, Sammy wouldn't be worried yet about where he was, so Dean knocked on the bathroom door. "Cas," he paused awkwardly before correcting himself, "Castiel. Come on, man. What's wrong?"

"Dean, drop it. Go home, blue balls or not."

Sighing, Dean leaned against the door. "Castiel, I don't know what you want from me. I gank demons, so what? You aren't a demon, are you?"

Dean swore Cas had laughed from the other side of the door, "No, Dean, I'm not a demon. I'm also not a reaper, vengeful spirit, ghost, talupa, shapeshifter-." 

"Hell man, where have you been a my life? You know all this shit and your damn good-looking, can you work a gun?" Dean had grinned, hoping the situation was passed them, but Cas didn't make any attempt to move from where he was. 

Cas did unlock the door, though. Taking that as enough permission to go in, Dean practically tackle-hugged Cas. Flinching away from the touch, Castiel breathed deeply, trying to calm himself. "Dean, what do you believe in?"

"Spiritually? I believe what I see," Dean had finally let go of Castiel, and was beginning to look uncomfortable.

"Do you believe in heaven? God?" There was something unexplainable in Cas' eyes as he asked the question. 

Dean coughed and sat up from where he was kneeled next to Cas. "Well, uh, I guess I have to now. It's like this; you know that Mars is real. You've never seen it in person but you just know it is. Others have seen it, even if they aren't like you. Cas, what do you know about Armageddon?"

Castiel had cleared his throat and swallowed nervously, "I know of Lucifer and Michael fighting in the holy war. I understand why and how they've been released, and that heaven is having a civil war of its own, at the moment." 

"Wow, I didn't know some of that and I'm supposed go be a vessel to one of the sick bastards." Then it clicked. 

"You're the guy who was saved from Hell?" Dean was taken slightly aback by the question, and nodded. 

"Yeah, there was this angel, they're the reason I'm out and about. Took me out of that dumb, rebuilt me. Wish I knew the little sucker, though. He was pretty handsy down there," Dean hiked up his sleeve to show the faint outline of a handprint. "Angels are dicks, but I really hope this guy was different. To go into hell and get one of the worst guys in it is a miracle for anybody, nonetheless an angel of the fricking lord. Must have been my guardian angel or something." 

"Or something," Cas repeated. Raising his left hand, he whispered, "Dean." He said his name softly, but the intensity in his voice didn't waver. The hand he had had raised was now pressed against Dean's marking. "You asked how I know all of this."

Dean understood now and pulled Cas closer and kissed him, "Shut up, you talk too much." In all honesty, Cas had barely spoken, but Dean didn't need to hear the rest. Castiel was his angel. 

\---

Sam had been ready for Dean to come home the next morning, it was just easier to accept it than to question his one night stands. Except, this was nothing like the other times. Sammy had gone and gotten breakfast for himself, and Dean was 'home' when he got back from the store. That part was fine, Dean would just need to go get his own food. 

No, the surprising part was Castiel with a knife in his kitchenette. Sam remembers what knives he has in the drawers, because they double as emergency weapons. The one Cas has isn't one of theirs, it's more like a sword. 

"Sammy! Got my own angel," Dean laughed, and pointed to Cas. Dean was sitting on the kitchen counter, and Cas was standing in front of him. 

"Hello, Sam. I was just showing your brother my angel blade. It's the only thing that can kill an angel, and I thought it would be fun to show him how they work." 

Sam smiled nervously and returned the hello, "so you're an angel?"

"My angel!" Dean piped in, and quickly kissed Cas on his forehead. 

"Ok, ew. Dean, keep it in your pants." Sam laughed and turned his attention back to Castiel. 

"Yes, I've just finished explaining the whole situation to Dean." He cleared his throat, and shot Dean a grin, "It took awhile, he wouldn't focus on anything. Thought he was crazy with how much we were getting off topic and getting distracted." 

Dean had mumbled something that sounded along the lines of, "You're such a dick," but Sam ignored it. 

"That's great, I'm not even gonna ask about else happened. Dean's 'I-got-laid face says enough. I just gotta know one thing."

"Yes, Sam?" Cas asked, his eyes looking at Dean, who seemed to magically know Sam's question. 

"Do I win or lose the bet?"


	2. Victory kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean to do this but it's 11:40pm, I just finished watching the football game and I'm still pissed about Kevin dying.

 

It wasn't like he jealous. No sir, not Dean Winchester. Not jealous of an angel, course not. Just jealous of everything else about Castiel. The simple composure he brought about himself, the lack of personal space, the strive to be the best e can no matter what. 

 

Oh, yeah, and the eyes. Those fucking eyes were almost sinful. They were such an intense blue, but they weren't. It's like they had a mind of their own– or their own emotions, at the least. They conveyed exactly what Cas felt, well, what he wanted others to think he felt. Castiel rarely hid his emotions from Dean, or anyone really. So, when he was met with bright blues glaring at him with that same concentrated emotion, Dean was a bit scared. 

 

He was going to say yes to Michael. What ever walls Dean had set up, what ever doors he locked him and Sammy behind were coming apart by the hinges. That's why he was giving up– couldn't let Adam go through that bullshit Winchester life. Usually when Dean had those same eyes so close to his, he tried not to fall into them, or steal the lips of the owner. It was a fucking hard task no matter what the circumstances. 

 

The azure eyes certainly weren't helping him this time. Cas was growling something at him, but the deep rumble in the angel's throat was way more enticing. That's when he was slammed straight into the wall, and his full attention was on Castiel (and if his dick wasn't on board than that's a crying shame). 

 

Sometimes he forgot how strong the angel was; hiding under a trench coat didn't make him look all that manly. Plus the sex hair, gorgeous eyes, and constant puppy-like head tilts didn't help. The damn man was too adorable for his own good. Dean couldn't really complain though, could he?

 

Castiel was yelling but Dean was still staring at his lips absently. They were so close, but now wasn't the time for this. Cas was pissed and would beat the ever-loving shit out of him. So he opted on listening. Still only heard half of what Cas was saying though, something about rebelling for him and risking it all. He probably deserved all of it, so Dean took the blunt of the anger. 

 

Finally Cas let his arms fall to his own side, let Dean slump against the wall and walked away. He thought he had proved his point. 

 

He didn't even go in for a victory kiss. 

 

\---

 

It couldn't have been long, right? Cas was standing right next to him when Dick had exploded. He wasn't so distraught he couldn't even laugh at that joke. 

 

Dean reached out blindly, trying to find Castiel in the darkened haze. It had taken awhile for his eyes to adjust to the 'monster's hell'. 

 

Damn him to hell, again, but Dean really wanted to find Castiel. Who knows where the hell he could be, especially with all this shit lurking around. So far he's decapitated three vampires and a leviathan. He has event been here that fucking long. 

 

Hell if he knew how long time was here, it's been as dark as the paint of the impala since he arrived there. 

 

Fuck this place, and fuck leviathans. Getting out or not, there's gonna be an angel by his side, didn't matter how or what it would take. Purgatory surely fucked up his timing, though. He left with someone, just not who he thought it would be. 

 

He didn't even get a victory kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't look at me with that tone of font, this wasn't meant to be so short and wasn't on my agenda. I guess this is kind of a canon divergence thing, so I added a little spin on canon scenes. Maybe I'll expand. And thanks for reading!


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